


Middle of my mind

by Professor_Lockhart



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:11:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Professor_Lockhart/pseuds/Professor_Lockhart
Summary: Set in the summer after leaving Hogwarts, this story explores the relationship between Al and Scorpius as they take their first steps into adulthood and understanding themselves a little better. They are both 17 at the start of the story.Title and start of chapters taken from the Tom Rosenthal song.P.S. - This is my first ever fan fiction. I'm writing it for myself because there's something about Albus and Scorpius that I just had to explore, but I hope you will like it too. I haven't had anyone beta or proofread so apologies for any errors.





	1. Chapter 1

**_One_ **

_You were in the flow of things, don't you know_  
_I was there with you somehow, somehow_

 

Albus found himself in a vicelike grip that should have felt painful but, like all things with Scorpius, felt unbearably soft. The contact between them had grown steadily since that first awkward hug in the lake. They ran along corridors and into the grounds, grabbing at each other around corner and pulling at each others cloaks to tell the latest discovery. ‘Did you see it?’ ‘We need to try this!’ And, often with Scorpius, ‘I can’t believe Rose did that’. The one-armed hugs, shoulder squeezes, tight embraces at the end of term and once, whilst they sat beneath the trampoline in a golden hour of sunset (there really is no other word) a cuddle.

 

And then there were the fights. Scorpius was good at fighting. Three years of Quidditch training had transformed him from a dandelion with an appropriate halo of white-blonde hair to a whip of muscle, taller than Albus by a head and strong where Albus was fast. Scorpius tackled chasers on the field and bundled with his teammates at the end of matches. He grabbed fellow students by the shoulders and seemed to bounce all over them, boisterous and eager. It wasn’t a surprise to Albus when his patronus turned out to be a golden retriever.

 

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when the contact with Scorpius had started to make his breath hitch, and his mind grow cloyingly sweet, as if he was wading through treacle to his thoughts. It was like watching the lights come up on a dim stage, until Albus found he was watching himself and had missed the prologue. Too concerned with confused feelings about his father, his identity, a silver haired witch who had made his mind race with what he thought was attraction but was really the desire to be free, unencumbered by a family into which he was squashed like a misshaped puzzle piece. And Scorpius had been there, in the middle of his mind, through everything.

 

When Rose first accepted Scorpius’s offer of a trip to Hogsmeade, he told himself it was natural to feel irritated. All those years Rose had spent belittling and criticising Scorpius, what right did she have to him now? When Rose kissed Scorpius under the sparkling icicles of the Yule Ball, Al accepted he was jealous. Scorpius’s face was flushed with awe. He would like to feel that way. The only awe he felt was for the terrible things he had seen Voldemort and Delphi do. He sat at the snow covered table and imagined what it would be like to feel joy at the simple fact of your existence. They had been 16. It was now a few weeks until Al’s 18th birthday and Scorpius and Rose were still a couple. Scorpius was going to study History at one of the new combined muggle / wizard courses at Cambridge. Rose had started an internship in the Auror Department, under Harry Potter himself.

 

Last Christmas, Uncle Charlie had offered Albus a place with him. Charlie Weasley had retired from dragons, taking at place at the _Santuario Nacional_ in Peru, where creatures from all over the continent were nurtured, rehabilitated and released. (Hagrid had fast tracked his exam result, bursting into tears and pulling Al into a crushing embrace when he handed him a piece of parchment declaring his Outstanding OWL. ‘So caring, just like your Da’!’).

 

Albus had been watching Rose and Scorpius dance to the wireless. Gang Gang had taught them how to jive, an old muggle dance. Rose’s curly hair bounced on her shoulders as they hopped and spun.

 

Charlie had sat down beside him and offered a bowl of toffees.

 

‘Don’t worry, I know we like to remember Fred at this time of year but it’s not a tribute to the Dudley incident.’

 

Albus smiled and took one.

 

‘Al, I want you to know there is a place for you at the National if you want one. Not because you’re my nephew. The chief examiner wrote to me after your OWL, saying you were the next Scamander. Can you believe that?’

 

‘I’m not sure I can.’

 

Charlie made a sign across his chest.

 

‘Cross my heart. Harry – your Dad – swore me not to yell you. Afraid it would make you nervous, ‘performance anxiety’ he called it. But you should know. His eyes strayed to the still bobbing Rose and Scorpius 'You can get away from here, if you want to.’

 

Albus started at the bowel of toffees between them and started to count. One…five…plus two. He could feel Charlie’s eyes searching his face.

 

‘I know that it can be a bit…claustrophobic in this family. I mean, they’re wonderful of course. All that love. But there’s a bit of a path to follow. It wasn’t for me. Not just this family, but wizards in England. They can be…old fashioned. We’re about 40 years behind the muggles in some ways. It’s not like that everywhere Albus.’

 

Charlie reached for his arm, and Albus jumped.

 

‘Thirty-two’.

 

‘Sorry?’

 

‘I said, thank you. I’ll – I’ll think about it.’

 

Charlie gave him a warm smile. ‘That’s great Al. We’d love to have you!’

 

Mid-way through January a school owl delivered a heavy parcel containing a booklet all about the National, photographs of runespoors, phoenixes and erumpents in various stages of convalescence, and a contract to be signed and returned – Research Assistant, on condition of an E grade in Care of Magical Creatures. The post was for 18 months. The contract had sat on Al’s bedside cabinet for weeks; he had not spoken about the offer to anyone.

Part of him wanted to tell Scorpius in the hope that he would beg Albus not to go and, in doing so, confess his unspoken desire and love for him. Albus imagined leading Scorpius to the clock tower, or the pebbled beach on the far side of the lake, or any of the other quiet places they used to inhabit in the years of Hogwarts when it was just the two of them. Perhaps, then, they would rediscover what had once seemed a hearts length away.

 

It had been the fist sunny day of the year, just into February, and Lily had joined him for breakfast at the Slytherin table. Scorpius was with Rose, surrounded by Gryffindors.

 

‘Valentine’s Day soon’, Lily said casually as she poured them more orange juice. ‘I might ask out Eoin Boyle, from Ravenclaw.’

 

‘Isn’t he in my year?’ Albus asked, admiring her confidence.

 

‘Yes. Was he mean to you, back in the bad days?’

 

Albus sighed. ‘It doesn’t matter now. But I don’t think so.’

 

‘It does matter. You shouldn’t let people get away with that sort of thing.’

 

‘We were only eleven.’

 

‘Dad was only eleven when he fought off Voldemort. It’s a rubbish excuse.’

 

Albus smiled affectionately at his sister.

 

‘You look soppy. Don’t go all big brotherly on me because it’s Valentines.’ She looked at his mostly untouched bowl of porridge. ‘And you’re not eating. Oh, who is it? Is Abigail still writing to you?’

 

‘Sometimes. But it’s not like that.’

 

‘Rubbish. I saw you two having a snog in the garden at Christmas.’

 

‘Well, alright, yes. But it’s not like I’m planning to propose or anything.’

 

‘Good! I think Grandma would die of shock at the joy of planning two Weasley weddings.’

 

‘What do you mean?’ Albus said quizzically, starting to spoon up his porridge.

 

‘My sources – and, by that I mean, Rose can’t keep her mouth shut about it – inform me that a Granger-Weasley- _Malfoy_ union is eminent’.

 

Albus froze, porridge dripping into his lap.

 

‘Has Scorpius not said anything to you?’ Lily asked, her eyes wide.

 

Within the next hour Albus had signed the contract and, eyes burning from what he told himself was the owl dung, watched it soar away from the owlery. It had started to rain again.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Two_ **

_Windows in the sun, I think I can see you_  
_The light is on the run and it's going nowhere_

Albus was laid on his back in the hay meadow which backed onto the Potter garden. The air was still, and achingly hot. The grass was at least a foot tall and shaded his eyes from the sun, which was high in an entirely blue sky. Albus had come out into the field with the idea of reading his new book, Magical flora and fauna of South America, but found it impossible to focus on the words. The text seemed to be sliding off the page, and the reflected sun dazzled his eyes. So he had laid back in the grass, closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him. Insects buzzed and chirped, Lily shouted distantly, and behind it all was the steady static hum of a hot summer day. 

He thought about his last days at Hogwarts, which though only a few weeks past seemed to be crystallising into memory rather than present. He rewound through them all. Boarding the Hogwarts express for the very last time, and straining out of the window to get a last look of the castle as it disappeared behind the mountains; the final assembly, with each student called to front of the hall to collect their NEWT scrolls; the anxiety and jubilation of results day, his hands shaking as he opened the wax seal of the envelope and scanned the paper, looking immediately at the spiky 'O' next to Care of Magical Creatures and feeling his heart burst in his chest; weeks and weeks of waiting with nothing to do other than read books and daze in the early summer sunshine that had finally made its way to Scotland. And through it all, of course, was Scorpius. Lying beside him at the lake, throwing his arms around Al after opening his results, bowing extravagantly as he collected his scroll from McGonagall, his eyes shining as Hogwarts soared out of view.

Al had not mentioned Peru, and Scorpius had not mentioned a wedding. Albus had not lied about his plans, merely brushed them aside noncommittally. He had thrown around vague ideas: maybe a job working for the London Magizooilogical Society, or a study of the water fauna of Hampshire, perhaps just a year of not very much but reading and working in the local muggle cafe. At one point in their friendship these ideas would have been dissected and questioned for hours, talking late into the night in their dormitory or on Al's bedroom windowsill. Now they were talked about almost as a matter of politeness, your plans for the future being something you shared with friends, but they were no longer the centre of a shared universe. Scorpius had decided quickly on his degree, had been one of the very first applicants for the dual award which combined both magical and muggle study - pioneered, of course, by Aunt Hermione (or, as Albus was often thinking of her, The Mother-In-Law). He had mentioned, once or twice, that Cambridge was a great centre for natural history and that Albus ought to find a role in the city. Albus has shrugged it off, thinking this merely routine geniality on Scorpius's part, the old habit of always doing things together. Albus greatly suspected that Rose would be a permanent visitor on her free weekends, maybe even floo'ing up to Cambridge every evening she wasn't on duty, and had no desire to be part of this. It was easier to let things unravel gently, and in any case there was no conflict, no great falling out, and Albus expected to be Best Man at the wedding. The thought of it made his stomach clench painfully. 

Other people were gradually filling the black hole of his once all-encompassing friendship. Chief among them was Abigail, who had lived in the same village as Albus for almost 10 years. He had been nine years old when the Potter family moved out of London and into a timbered, whitewashed cottage in the New Forest. Abigail was a muggle, but one of a new breed who had some knowledge of the wizarding world since the reforms of the Statute of Secrercy in 2014. It helped that her parents were squibs, both of whom had found roles in the reformed Muggle Liaison Office. They had been the people who suggested the area to Al's parents when they had been looking for a new home. Albus had wondered sometimes how it must feel to be squibs and then have the most famous wizard in the world move in almost next door to you, but Pete and Lauren seemed quite content in their position.

Albus had spent most of his holidays at Hogwarts, meaning he would often arrive home for summer to meet a slightly different version of Abigail each time. A tall girl with long blonde plaits and a slight lisp, then a tomboy in dungarees and cut off hair, and then (as if she swallowed a great a vat of Polyjuice potion) a heart-shaped young woman who was curved and full-chested in a way that left James uncharacteristically flustered. She had watched him from across the garden during their shared summer BBQs, in a way that made Albus stand naked in front of his bathroom mirror and wonder whether he would ever undergo such a transformation. He supposed that he had changed, but as usual his attentions had been elsewhere.

The sheer loveliness of Abigail's face, and the softness of her body, were both fascinating and confusing. She had sat beside him on the patio wall, her legs angled across his knees, and he had felt himself stiffen along every possible length. She placed herself carefully around him, in a way that was very different Scorpius's casual affection.  This was followed by confusing dreams of a faceless blonde somebody sitting astride him, or gently turning him onto all fours, from which he would awake to wet sheets and a dull ache. After speaking with Charlie at Christmas, Albus had extracted her from amongst James and his muggle friends and kissed her forcefully beneath a heavily fairy-lighted crab apple tree in the Potter garden. The knowingness with which Charlie had spoken, the implicit difference he had marked out, had frightened Albus more than watching Rose and Scorpius together. He had kissed her, not really knowing who he was thinking of but enjoying it anyway. Abigail was warm and yielding, responding enthusiastically and writing long letters to him during his final year at Hogwarts. They were airily suggestive, with promises of camping in the Forest and days spent by the sea. _"Al, sometimes I think I'm going mad. I think I will be mad until you come home again, and we can sit for hours on Brownsea with no-one around but the squirrels. We'll be side by side under the trees and melt into each other"_.  Albus would read them before bed, and sometimes his dreams would be easier to interpret. 

Remembering these moments made him squirm pleasantly. He had seen Abigail only briefly this summer: her family left for a holiday in France the morning after his return from Hogwarts. He had arrived home to his Dad serving up dinner and Abigail waiting at the table. She had been unsure of how to greet him, unusually shy under the eye of the Potters, but Albus had kissed her instinctively. Lily had given a great 'Hah!' of satisfaction and Al caught a look of surprise pass between his parents but no other comment was made. They had said a coy goodbye by the front gate of the cottage, but Albus had promised to meet her in the lane that led down to the forest at 10PM. It was easier for him, having passed his apparition test at the first opportunity, and he sighed with relief as she she hurried down the track a few minutes later and kissed him joyfully. They passed wandering ponies as they made their way into the shallow edge of the forest, filled with visitors during the day but empty now the sun was almost set. The little light that was left was green and wavering. They fell into each other on a bed of moss and leaf litter, fumbling inexpertly and frequently bumping heads and elbows as they positioned themselves into the only position that seemed natural. Albus watched as if from a distance as he pushed uncertainly against the most unfamiliar part of her, until she asked to stop, saying she wasn't sure. Albus was relieved. The sight of her long torso in the semi-darkness, her breasts lying splayed apart in a way he had not expected, made him thought he would not be able to do much other than enter her and he would be finished. She wrapped a long fingered hand around him and he was apologising as he spilled across her stomach. But she looked happier than ever. "Now you belong to me" she said, kissing him. 

She would be back on Friday. It was now late afternoon on the Tuesday, and she had been away for almost two weeks. Two weeks in which Albus had barely thought of Scorpius; had thought of nothing, really, other than the promise of Peru, and the promise Abigail had made of a present when she returned, which seemed almost the same thing. He knew Scorpius had been in Cambridge for the week, and then visited the Weasley Grandparents with Rose and her family - his Mum had mentioned an invite in passing but Albus had declined, retreating to his books and thoughts.

Maybe an hour had ticked by as Albus mulled over the events of the past few weeks, and a golden mist of light had descended over the meadow. He supposed it was probably time for dinner. Dad would be out in the vegetable patch pulling up potatoes and cutting leaves for salad. Albus got to his feet, scooped up his books, and swept back through the high grass. The brick wall that marked out the end of the Potter garden swam lazily into view, wavering slightly in the heat. Albus climbed over and then Lily was coming towards him, her long red hair streaming behind her. 

'There you are, Al! I was calling for you but you didn't come. You've got a visitor.'

'Abi?'

'Not exactly.'

Scorpius was sat on the garden steps, looking uncharacteristically stony and waiting for Albus to approach him. 

'I don't suppose you'll need these,' Lily suggested, tugging the books out of Albus's now slack grip. 'And I'll save you some dinner'. 

She retreated back to the patio, smiling ruefully at them both. 

Albus found he didn't quite know what to do with his hands, so he stuffed them into his pockets as he walked towards Scorpius, who was not meeting his eye.

'Didn't know you were coming over.'

'Well, as we're not in the manner of telling each other things anymore I don't suppose it matters.' Scorpius spat, twisting his hands together furiously. 

For one jolting moment Albus thought he was talking about Abigail, but he put that thought aside.

'Do you mean...my job?'

'Bloody Peru, for 18 bloody months Albus! And you didn't think to mention 'Oh, by the way FRIEND I'm moving to another fucking continent for a year and a half!' This isn't the stupid Coffee Spoon down the road, is it?!'

'No. Look, the right moment didn't come up.'

'I suppose that might be because you've been avoiding me since Christmas. Or pretending to be asleep when I come up to the dorm. And not wanting to plan anything over the summer, so yes I suppose it _is_ a bloody surprise that I'm here.' 

Scorpius's voice, latterly calm and deeper, was approaching his pre-teenage level of pitch as his annoyance increased. 

'Do you know what really takes the soggy biscuit, oh Al, oh pal of mine? The fact that I had to find out through your Aunt, who seemed really quite surprised I didn't know.'

'I'm glad your bonding with your Mother-In-Law, at least.' Albus spat, unable to stop himself.

'What? Oh, haha, very good' 

'So when were you going to tell me about that? I'd say a marriage is more important than a trip to South America'

'Who said I was getting married?' Scorpius said, tearing distratctedly at a long patch of grass next to him.

'Lily. Mum. Charlie. Everyone seems to be talking about it except me.'

'Well, that makes two of us then because no one has bloody asked me' Scorpius shouted. Albus blanched, walking towards him and looking apprehensively at the house. 

'Scorpius, I'm sorry. I should have told you. And I should have asked you about...Rose. I just, things have been confused.' said Albus, sitting down beside Scorpius. 

'I don't really know what I'm doing most of the time. Do you ever feel like that?'

'I just...' Scorpius rubbed his eyes furiously 'I don't want anyone else to leave, Albus. Not you, or Rose, or everyone that's built up around that. So I just have to do certain things. Even if I'm not sure about them. You get stuck on a path and that's it.'

Albus watched Scorpius’ fingers twist and flex compulsively in his lap, an old habit. The skin around his fingernails was badly bitten and one began to ooze blood. 

‘I’m not trying to leave you.’ Albus said, tugging the bleeding hand towards him. 

‘Well, you’re doing a good impression, moving to another continent.’

Albus examined the lines in Scorpius’ palm, running a finger across the skin. 

‘Remember that Easter holiday where we tried to learn palmistry? We decided you had water hands, and a stupidly long fate line. I don't remember what it means.' Albus traced the line on Scorpius palm to the top of his wrist. 'And there was something about Venus, this bit here.' 

'The Mount of Venus' Scorpius said in a constricted voice. Tears were flowing silently down his cheeks.

'What does it mean?'

'That I'll have an idiot for a best friend that really thinks I'd get married without telling him'. 

'We're still best friends then?' 

'Obviously. It's on the other Mount. If you have a particular fat one you're destined to always have a self-involved Potter for a friend'

'Where's that one?' Albus asked, still holding Scorpius' wrist. He could feel the pulse fluttering under his fingertips.  

'Take a look at Uranus'.

'Wow. _Wow._ Lowbrow, even for you.' 

They were laughing and crying, falling against each other.

'Do you know I got into Cambridge Al?'

'Confundus charm, was it, or Daddy's money?'

'Neither. It was my enormous Venus Mount.'

They laughed until their sides ached in the pink light of the early evening. Lying on the dampening grass with their feet swinging off the steps, they filled each other in the weeks where they had been present but not quite in each other's lives. Scorpius told Al about his new flat in Cambridge, how it looked out over the River Cam and how the buildings were all ancient and made of honey coloured stone. Albus listed the creatures he had been studying, his preparations for Peru, and how he had found a nest of bowtruckles in an elm tree in the Bolderwood Arboretum. 

'Are you staying tonight?' Albus said, watching lights flicker on inside the house.

'I might have already told Dad you invited me' Scorpius admit, slightly abashed. 

'Well consider yourself thoroughly invited, then.'

'I haven't asked your parents. I was a bit...upset..when I arrived so Lily brought me round the back.'

'Don't worry, they'll be relieved to see us together again. Dad keeps cornering me to ask why you haven't been round.'

'Blimey. Do you think we can pop back and tell 14 year old Scorpius that?'

'Don't even go there' Albus groaned, jumping to his feet and offering a hand to Scorpius. Ginny was watching them from across the patio, smiling out of the warm yellow light of the kitchen. She waved at them and Scorpius responded in turn enthusiastically, still clutching Al's hand so they did a strange conjoined wave.  She laughed and beckoned them towards the house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the enormous gap in posting this. I've been wrapped up with a million other things but still thinking about Al and Scorp regularly. I promise not to leave such a lag again, and thanks for the kind comments and clicks. This is the first time I've shared any of my writing with another soul in years so it feels quite liberating. 
> 
> Things that are possibly of no interest to anyone besides myself, but are somewhat relevant to this story:  
> \- I've always imagined the Potters living in the New Forest, which is a national park in the South of England which I've visited many times. You might even suggest I've plotted out the exact locations in this story on google maps. It's a mystery.
> 
> \- I was lucky enough to see Cursed Child in London a few months ago and since then can't imagine Scorpius without seeing Jonathan Case as he was SO wonderful. I might have nicked a few of his mannerisms for my Scorp. I'm yet to see an Albus who embodies how I see the character but in my head who looks a bit like baby Logan Lerman so, yeah, do what you want with that information. 
> 
> \- I actually haven't edited this very much, so apologies for that and I'll probably review at a later day.


End file.
